


Breathing

by sleepdeprivedphilosopher



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dunno how that happened but Baz will be Baz, M/M, Somehow is also snarky, baz is great at love confessions, even if he is bleeding out, now with added pain and suffering, youre welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-02-07 08:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedphilosopher/pseuds/sleepdeprivedphilosopher
Summary: "Baz,” I say desperate and annoyed that even now he is being difficult. “You can’t just kiss me, declare that you love me, and then die.”Baz still hasn’t opened his eyes, but somehow I know that he is rolling them at me. “Watch me,” he says.





	1. Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, void. 
> 
> so I'm supposed to be working on the next chapter of Essential but instead, I wrote this. so yeah. * tired finger guns*
> 
> I kept thinking about that scene in Carry On when baz is musing about his demise at simon's hand. it's been sticking with me for awhile and this is the result. 
> 
> feedback would be great. sorry in advance for the emotional whiplash. I blame baz's inherent need to be sarcastic. 
> 
> inspired by Stay up with Me by SHARKMARTINI, we'll have to say goodbye by madwithmissing, and Not Really by sorbriquette. check em out they're great.

For a moment there is nothing but the sound of blood dripping onto the ground. Neither of us is breathing. 

Then Baz exhales, and I’m standing close enough to feel his breath against my face as he falls to his knees. The sword is still in my hand, so I end up falling with him. 

I’m not sure why I can’t seem to let go of the sword. Or why my hand keeps shaking. I’m staring at it, and it is incomprehensible. 

This doesn’t seem real. 

This scene doesn’t fit. 

Not the blood already starting to stain my hand. Not the sword in Baz’s side or the tears I can see pooling in his grey eyes. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

I wasn’t supposed to win. 

Things only get even more surreal from there as Baz lifts his free hand (the one not holding his wand) and presses it against my cheek. I’m in still too much shock to pull away. 

His thumb rubs back and forth across my cheekbone as he stares at me. I stare back. Now that I’m looking at him I can’t look away.

“Simon,” he whispers and starts to lean forward. 

This can’t be happening. 

His lips press against mine, and they’re cold. 

And suddenly everything is clear in my mind. He’s on the pitch dribbling the ball expertly between his feet, and I’m thinking that he’s perfect. He’s raising his eyebrow at me, and I’m thinking how unfair it is that he can pull off arrogant arsehole so well. We’re in our room, and he is running his hand through his hair, and I’m wondering if it is as silky as it looks. I’m sitting next to Penny in the dining hall, and she’s telling me that I’ve used up my daily talking about Baz allowance, so I huff in annoyance and change the subject. He is reading a book bigger than his face, smiling at something and I’m thinking about how soft he looks, wondering why he doesn’t smile more. The sound of his breathing late at night, a verbal balm soothing me enough that the nightmare falls away and I can fall back asleep. 

I’m kissing him back, and something so perfect shouldn’t be hurting this much. 

It still doesn’t seem real. 

Baz keeps kissing me, desperately, before abruptly pulling away. I open my eyes in confusion (I don’t know when I closed them, and I don’t know when I started to run my free hand through his hair. It is just as silky as it looks).

He’s staring at me again, and he doesn’t have the right to look surprised. He kissed me. 

Still, to his credit, he gathers himself, and if I thought his kiss was shocking, it doesn’t hold a candle to what he says next. 

“I love you,” he tells me as the tears finally fall. They streak down his cheeks, but he doesn’t wipe them away. He is still holding my face. 

I don’t know what face I’m making, but whatever expression I have makes him smile at me. It’s a sad smile. 

“Simon,” he says and since when is he calling me by my first name? And since when is his voice so quietly resigned? “It’s okay.” 

“What?” It seems I've finally found my voice. 

He presses a kiss against my forehead, and it makes me shiver. “That you killed me,” he whispers, and I can feel his lips move as he speaks. 

“What?” I say again. I think that is all I am capable of saying right now, possibly forever. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he informs me. How many times can someone's world be turned upside down before their mind shuts down? I suppose I’ll be finding out. “Possibly since the moment we met even if that sounds dramatic. Maybe the drama of it all was why it took me till fifth year to realize it.” 

“You haven’t,” I protest. “You don’t — you can’t.” 

His eyes are starting to close, and it's making me panic. “I’ve already tried denial, Snow,” he says. “For years. It doesn't work. No matter how illogical it is, I’m in love with you."

“Why?” I ask. 

“Because you're you,” Baz says as if that's an answer. “You've always burned so bright and fierce, and I’m a Pitch. I couldn’t resist even if I am flammable. It was only a matter of time before you scorched me.” 

I feel like protesting, but I’ve managed to lose my words again in the sob stuck in my throat. 

“It’s okay,” he says and he is flashing that sad reassuring smile at me again before shutting his eyes, but it isn’t okay. None of what is happening here is okay. 

“Baz,” I say when he stops speaking. “Baz open your eyes.” 

“Can’t you let me die in peace, Snow?” he asks, and there is that familiar mocking tone even if it is slightly shaky and teary. The sound of it eases something in my chest. 

“You’re not going to die,” I say. 

“Yes,” Baz says patiently. “I am. I am right now. It’s over Simon.” 

“No," I argue. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” 

“This is exactly what was supposed to happen,” Baz disagrees with me, calmly or as calmly as someone recently stabbed can be. 

“No,” I repeat. Can’t he see that this is all wrong? I wasn’t supposed to beat him. He isn't supposed to die. “No.” 

Baz sighs. “Snow you can say no as many times as you like. You've still stabbed me,” he says. "I’m still dying, and it's okay. This is how I expected this to go.” 

“Will you please stop saying that it is okay!” I explode. “It isn’t okay!” 

“Maybe you should have realized that before you stabbed me,” Baz points out dryly.

“Baz,” I say desperate and annoyed that even now he is being difficult. “You can’t just kiss me, declare that you love me, and then die.” 

Baz still hasn’t opened his eyes, but somehow I know that he is rolling them at me. “Watch me,” he says. 

“No,” I say. 

“Snow,” he says, and only Baz can sound that exasperated despite literally bleeding out in my arms. “Stop being dense. We both know how this is ending.” 

“No,” I say again. 

“This was always going to be the outcome,” Baz continues as if I hadn’t spoken. 

“You could’ve killed me,” I argue and then go quiet. The word killed knocks me breathless. 

Baz finally opens his eyes. “What part of I’ve been in love with you for years don’t you understand, Snow?” 

“All of it,” I say. “Why didn’t you tell me? Baz we could have stopped this.” 

“No,” Baz says. “Don’t make that face at me Snow. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve won. You’ve beaten the evil monster. Congratulations.” 

“You’re not evil,” I argue. “Or a monster.” 

Baz smirks at me, and I can see the glint of his fangs. Perhaps before the sight would have given me some matter of satisfaction, but it is a hollow sort of vindication now. “I beg to differ,” he says. 

“You’re a vampire,” I whisper and this is the least shocking revelation of this conversation. Since I already knew that. 

“Ding ding,” Baz deadpans. “You were right. Be sure to tell everyone. It doesn’t matter if they know anymore. I’ll be beyond caring soon.” 

“Stop talking like that,” I say. 

Baz stares at me again, and confusion is furrowing his brow. “I didn’t know you cared, Snow. What with the whole stabbing me thing.” 

“I’m sorry,” I say, and it comes out choked. “I’m sorry.” 

It is starting to sink in now, completely. Our bickering had distracted me. I got lost in it. It took me out of this unfitting scene. 

Baz is still bleeding. Baz has been bleeding for a while now. 

My hand is red and sticky. 

I feel sick. 

"I'm sorry," I say again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm—, "

“— Simon,” Baz says back to his soft voice. He strokes my cheek. “Calm down, love. It’s okay.” 

“You can’t die,” I say, and I'm full on sobbing now. “You can’t.” 

Baz looks heartbroken. “But I am.” 

I let go of the Sword of Mages, and it disappears. I wrap my arms around him tightly, like I am trying to make him a part of me. Where he’d be safe. 

It has to hurt but he only hugs me back just as tightly and buries his face into my shoulder. He’s shaking too, but he is still trying to calm me down. I can’t make out the words he is saying as the reality of life without Baz hits me. 

Baz has always been there. His plots and his sneers. His moods. His habit of reading seven books at once because he gets distracted. Our room smelling like his shampoo because of how long he takes in the shower — the sound of his breathing when I’m falling asleep. 

He’s the constant thorn in my side. My nemesis. My enemy. 

My roommate. 

I pull away from him slightly. His hair is falling in his eyes, hanging loosely around his face. His eyes bore into mine like he is trying to memorize me.

My chest aches. I can’t lose him. I can’t. 

My magic is surging up within me, and I don’t fight it. Maybe my magic can fix this. Fix something for once instead of breaking it. 

I don’t care if it's hopeless. I don’t care if this is how it is supposed to happen. I don’t care about the Mage or the War or any of it. 

I only care about one thing. 

I can’t lose Baz. 

I kiss him, and he kisses me back — my magic igniting the air between us, connecting us like a current.

I can feel him breathe. 

Behind my closed eyelids everything is bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 4:30 AM on a Saturday morning. my shift starts at 9 AM. finals are hell. I haven't slept in two days. 
> 
> help
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


	2. Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey void, 
> 
> so I never meant to give this another chapter. I'd written it as a one-shot and it stayed that way for months, but then somehow this happened. what _this_ is exactly I don't know.
> 
> but I'm sorry. 
> 
> really.

My magic burns bright. 

—

It's not enough. 

—

It is enough. 

—

Baz's eyes close, and they stay closed. He isn't breathing. 

—

Baz's eyes open, and they stay open. He's still breathing. 

—

At this moment, I've never felt such agony. I scream.

The pain rips into me so hard that I clutch at my chest as if I could reach down into that part hurting with every beat, and just make it stop. I can't see anymore. I'm crying too hard. 

—

At this moment, I've never felt such joy. I laugh. 

I feel a weight in my chest lift. Baz's hand lifts too. He presses it against it. Maybe he knows that each beat is for him. I can't see anymore. I'm smiling too big. 

—

The war ended. There were no winners. Many died. The Mage lived. I can't bring myself to care. 

Things have never been worse. 

—

The war ended. We won. Baz and I. The Mage died. It hurts, but less when Baz holds me.

Things are better now. 

—

I'm standing in a dark, cold room, staring at an empty bed. "Baz," I whisper and close the window. 

—

We're standing in our room after pushing our beds together. I'm sweating from how warm it is in here. "Baz?" I ask. "Can we open the window?" 

He rolls his eyes at me but agrees.

—

"Were you successful?" The Mage asks. 

I walk away instead of replying. 

—

"Were you successful?" 

"Curry is on the counter," Baz replies. 

I kiss him.

"Curry is on the counter," Baz repeats against my lips. 

I just keep kissing him. 

—

"I miss you," I say to someone who can't hear me. I see my expression in the grave's reflection. The stone is the colour of his eyes. I've run out of tears. 

—

"I missed you," I say, and Baz shakes his head at me. 

"You saw me a half-hour ago, Snow," he informs me, but kisses me on the cheek. 

I wrap my arms around him. "Too long," I murmur against his throat. 

—

"I'm tired." 

Penny looks heartbroken. "I know Simon," she says. "I know, but please hang on. You'll get through this."

My chest feels like glass. Like if I breathe too hard, it will shatter. But maybe there isn't anything left to break. My heart has been empty for a while. 

_I can't_ is the truth, but Penny is near tears, so I just nod. 

—

"I'm tired," I yawn. 

"I know, Snow," Baz says, tucked under my chin. "I know, but it is just one more episode. It's the best one. Even you with your toddler attention span can get through it."

"Fine," I say, forcing my eyes open. 

Baz snuggles closer. His head is rising and falling with my breath. My heart is full. 

—

The guilt is choking. Even when I manage to numb myself, to push so far into my head that nothing seems real, the guilt is always there. 

I'm on my knees, head in my hands. "Please," I beg. "I know you can't forgive me, but please come back. I promise I'll do it right this time." 

I know my words are meaningless. He can't come back.

—

"Please," I say. "I know you can't forgive me, but please come back." 

From on the other side of our bed, Baz stares down his nose at me, looking extremely unimpressed. 

"I'll get down on my knees if I have to," I offer.

He looks amused now. "No need for such dramatics, Snow. I'll settle for you promising never to call me that again." 

I smirk. "Sorry, Tyrannus," I say. "I won't make a promise I can't keep." 

Baz tackles me. We're both choking on laughter. 

—

It's too quiet. 

I haven't been sleeping well. 

—

Baz's breathing has always been soothing, but from this close up, I can hear it when he mumbles in his sleep too. 

I've been sleeping well. 

—

"I love you, Baz." 

—

"I love you, Baz." 

"I love you too, Simon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this post was completed at 2:10 on a saturday morning. I have to be up at 7:00. 
> 
> one of these days theses masochistic insomniac tendencies of mine will be the death of me. 
> 
> in the meantime though I'll keep writing. 
> 
> -still sleep deprived.


End file.
